Page 11 of Shadowed Obsession

She sucks her teeth, leaning forward, her tone laced with indignation. “If you thought you could handle it, we’d be digging graves right now. Give me a description, make, and model of their car. I’ll have this little setback gone by next week. What threatensyou, threatens us all,” she finishes, leaning back in her chair.

A chill dances over me, and I suck in a breath and hold it in. Now isn’t the time to have a panic attack. This isn’t new to me. It’sournormal, and I didn’t always have this reaction when they’d talk business. A department that I choose not to be a part of: clean up and removal.

Thinking of what cleaning up entails causes bile to rise in my throat, and I swallow. I scramble for grounding techniques I learned in therapy to hold it together until they leave.

“I actually have a license plate, too,” he adds, picking up his phone. His thumbs swiftly dance across the screen. “Texting you now.”

As a ding fills the room, she holds up her phone. “I’ll take care of it. I gotta get to the airport. I miss my kids,” she says with a frown as she stands, pushing in her chair before sticking her gun back in her waistband. We round the table to embrace her in a hug, and she steps back to place kisses on both of our cheeks.

“I love you. It’s just—I don’t take kindly to threats after...” she trails off, eyes welling with tears.

“I know,” we say in unison.

“Better to be safe than sorry.” Her voice wavers. “I know what it’s like to be terribly sorry.”

Fuck.

My stomach sinks, and I nod in understanding before grabbing a nearby box of tissues to offer her one. She sniffs, reaching for a tissue to pat under her eyes.

“I’ll meet you at the car, Gi,” Darius says.

She nods, exiting the boardroom with a final wave, and takes off down the hallway with her bodyguard, Mr. Price, in tow. As if the trigger-happy woman needs one.

Darius exhales deeply, rubbing his hands over his face. “Dee? I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him, even though it’s not.

“It’s really not, though.” That damn twin energy.

“You’re right. Don’t keep shit like that from me. It’s weird not living in New York, and it’s a lot harder to protect you from a distance.”

He lets out a chuckle. “Regina’s got me covered. It’s not like you’re willing to catch a body. I don’t take it personally that you’re not a killer. I know Pops gives you a hard time over it, but at least one of us sleeps at night.”

My brow raises. “Who said I sleep?”

“Well, then maybe you are one deep down,” he says, patting my shoulder. “Everything is gonna be fine. I’ll call you when I land.”

“Please do.”

He leans in for an embrace, and it feels like home. “I’ll call before we drop in next time. We were just following orders, but that wasn’t fair to you.”

“I appreciate that. If you don’t piss me off next time, I’ll take you to dinner.”

“Now, that I can’t promise,” he tells me with a smug smile.

“Of course not. Have a safe flight.”

“Thanks. Love you, Dee.”

“I love you, too, Dare. See you soon,” I say, and he closes the door behind him.

“Never a dull moment with the Klarkes,” I think out loud, taking a moment to embrace the stillness of the empty boardroom. I’m desperately in need of a field to scream in after the day I’ve had that’s far from over. Thankfully, no one stops me as I stride down the hall. A relieved sigh escapes my lips as I enter my office.

I lock my door and proceed to riffle through my purse for my anxiety meds. With a tablet on my tongue, I take a swig of water and swallow before I focus on my breathing. I hold my breath as I count to four and repeat the action as I exhale. Eventually feeling at ease, I tackle the pile of paperwork on my desk, opting for a spicy audiobook to tune out the world.

Later, a text comes in from the man I dubbed Scar, serving as a pleasant distraction that I don’t mind indulging in.

Scar

---